Soft Resurrection
by It'sPenelope
Summary: Draco's magic begins to overwhelm him the start of his fifth year. It's small, very insignificant at first, but slowly begins to consume his life in the worst of ways. Who else would take notice but the ever so nosy Harry Potter? He's convinced there's something more going on. Ministry members running about, teachers covering up Draco's absences... Updating regularly!
1. Run

His body feels like lead as he pushes his way through the dense fog. Every fallen branch snapped like a whip beneath his bleeding feet.

Still, his legs couldn't push him fast enough.

A thunderous roar of steps followed behind him, crushing every upturned root he tripped over blindly. It was gaining speed. He knew he couldn't run forever.

There had to a way to hide. Running deeper into the trees seemed like a foolish idea; he was unsettlingly unfamiliar with the forest before him, and the fear of running into yet another one chilled his blood to the core.

The trees he darted between were far too narrow to duck behind however. His chest ached with every burning breath he sucked. Even in the dark, his vision was beginning to spot and blur.

Damn it all.

His legs made the decision for him, and he veered sharply to the right.

Wet dirt and pine needles kicked up in a flurry, but his feet were beyond the point of noticing the sting. He could only hope the change of directions threw it off.

Hope seemed to be the only thing he wasn't feeling in that moment.

It was unclear if the pounding in his ears was blood flooding through them, or the earth-shaking trot stampeding behind him. May the fates forgive him, when he failed to have the courage to check.

One look behind would have been his fatal mistake, if he hadn't been thrown violently to the ground with sickening crunch beneath him.

His offender was the surfaced root of an oak that coiled around his ankle with a ferocity that he couldn't have imagined.

His entire body throbbed with a pain he wishes he had gone his whole life without knowing. The physical stun was enough to leave him deathly still; a sob racked through his ribs, but no tears threatened to spill onto his feverish cheeks.

He clenched his eyes shut, the idea of ending the wild chase welcomed him for a brief instant.

A whinnying more akin to a roar startled him out of that mindset as his palms thrust him from the ground.

Sinking his weight into his right leg rallied a pain so severe, that he wished he had just stayed on the ground. His silvery blonde head snapped around, finally taking the chance to look at his pursuer.

Nothing. The dense fog failed to carry any sound.

The silence rang so true, he almost laughed.

Almost.

A grunt sounded from the direction in which he had run, and even in the dark he knew he was the one who had been fooled.

The beast, bigger than any of its kind, with its maddening blind eyed stare, circled before him, stamping its iron clad hoof against the soil.

He stumbled back against the tree that had crippled him, gripping at the bark in a silent prayer.

The beast threw its head back repeatedly, tossing its matted mane around its horn. It glinted, effervescent in the sparse moonlight, far from any sort of fabled beauty…

It charged without hesitation.

Heed my words, child.

Trepidation spread through him, cold and unforgiving.

The moon will wax thrice; then my kin will seek you.

Distance between crumbled away.

I breathe unto you this unholy burden.

Either it shall consume you

Or set you free.

Her horn speared him through the heart, piercing his body to the oak.


	2. Morning Comes

The first thing he can hear, is yelling. Words are incoherent, yet they exist over the blood rushing through his ears.

"Hurry up! You're going to be late for the showers!"

He recognizes the snappy legato. Blaise Zabini is barking at a couple of ill-prepared fifth years, cold eyes corralling them out the room.

Draco can see them through his bed curtains as they scuffle awkwardly out of the room. He rubs the stinging from his eyes, attempting to will away the pressure behind them.

There's stomping headed straight for him, and it sends his heart hammering for an unknown reason. Velvet emerald curtains jerked aside with a screech. Blaise, ever so tall and imposing, glares down at him.

Something lands on Draco's leg, thrown down with contempt. A prefect emblem.

"I wish I didn't have to do your job for you," Zabini says with a deep sigh through his nose. "... But it appears you've had fisticuff with the dirt outside."

Trepidation.

Draco tried to reason his sleep addled brain made up Blaise's last comment, or construed it. But he smelled it before he saw it.

Fresh dirt. Decaying leaves. It reaches up, and wraps a cold hand of terror around his throat.

It took all his years of deceit to scoff, and pick at the elements with mock disgust.

"You're hilarious. It maybe someone's low-bar idea of a joke." A tidal wave of emotion rattled over the dark boy's features. If his mood resembled a gentle smatter of rain before, then it raged into thunderstorm now.

"I fucking knew it. I told you they were getting into our common room again- somehow!"

Draco let him fume away. A well induced distraction, he decided; but trouble for later.

Picking up the crest thrown, he swung his heavy legs over the side of his bed. He remains a sole survivor within the dorm, as it seemed most felt the sense to abscond whilst they could.

This left him to panic in silence with dirty fists closed tight. Could it have not been a night terror? Vivid as it was, surely it remains a figment of imagination?

Rational thoughts didn't help. He slowly raises a hand to his chest, grasping over his nightshirt with tenderness. A lack of a gaping hole was the encouragement needed to push himself from his sheets, and prepare a new change of clothes.

Draco chided himself for acting like a child.

But his heart thrummed the entire walk to the prefect bathroom, as he slunk through the shadows of early darkness.

• • • •

The weather seemed to mock him with its tepid winds and glittering morning dew, reflecting the sun's smile through the windows. Even the walk back into the Slytherin common area proved barren of things to complain about, as most of the other students had situated within the dining hall.

Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were among the few who dwindled behind. The lesser two appeared to be receiving what would ultimately be the boiling point of Blaise's wrath. The thought made him gleeful.

"Picking on my acquaintances now, are we?" He said as he approached them, folding his arms laxly over his chest.

Blaise's head snapped towards him, clearly waiting for someone to lash out upon, but Draco received no such smiting.

"These dunderheads are refusing to listen to basic logic. Please, " Blaise spat the word out as if it offended his tongue to form it. "-See if you can dumb it down any more than I have- improbable, but… Still, they listen to you. "

Draco wore a pinched expression, turning to face them. A jerk of his head allotted them to speak their part. Goyle opened his mouth, but Crabbe beat him to the punch.

"He wants us to keep watch over the entrances to the bedrooms, like stupid dogs-"

"Oh, so you do understand-" Blaise interjected coldly, but Draco held up a hand. He couldn't allow them to squabble over each other.

"Relax you two. If this turns into a pissing match, we're going to be standing here for the remainder of our mortal lives. " Draco looked calmly between them, and watched the tension slip. They nodded.

"Good. Crabbe, continue. "

"He wants us to take sentry shifts, " He began softly, gaze cast to the side. "Thinks there's been someone sneaking 'round our house room. But-"

"It's bull. " Goyle stated, arms folded stubbornly over his chest. Blaise's version of exasperated was a delicate flourish of his hand, like he was presenting their stupidity on a platter.

Draco hummed. "I suppose you know better, then? "

"I do. I was out here 'til two in the morning. Divination essay, you see… "

Draco poised a hand to his own chin. "And this proves there wasn't anyone there?"

Goyle shifted his weight. "Well I mean, yeah… "

"Then you think it's impossible someone could have disillusioned themselves?"

Goyle didn't have an answer, but Crabbe seized the reigns once more.

"But Draco! You were-"

"- Do you also find it hard to believe someone snuck in after you had gone to bed?" Draco snapped, a hint of irritation in his tone. They both turned their heads down, familiar with the signs that they weren't going to win the argument.

Draco hated when they did that. "... But I find the idea of sitting around, paranoid about the slightest incident ridiculous. "

Blaise shot him a smouldering glare, but the blonde stared back indifferently.

"If you're so hell bent on catching someone Blaise, we'll all take shifts at night."

It was clear someone would interrupt him again, so he spoke a bit louder than necessary. "Do you honestly expect these two to be competent sentries?"

There wasn't any further discussion, as a murmur of voices had sounded from the other end of the room. Students had begun making their way back to retrieve the days supply.

Draco saw the defiance in Blaise' eyes and through his terse nod. He wasn't entirely pleased with the outcome, but Draco's reasoning would always prove impenetrable.

"We'll settle on shifts later on. There's no need to hasten what will come in good time. " Draco preaching on patience gave him a laugh, and he shook his head when he walked away.

"You're full of shit Malfoy."

Draco only shrugged, starting off towards the exit of the common room. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered along after him.

He touched his wand from the inside of his robes, idly strumming his fingers over the wood. Disillusionment was a common, but complicated spell. His mother taught it to him in his third year, much to his father's protest.

His fickle wand insisted any attempt at the spell would only succeed after an unyielding amount of practice. In a month's time, it proudly bowed to Draco's will, and he had nicked his mother's finest broach right from her chest. He can still imagine her thrilled- and terrified, expression.

Magic thrummed against his palm. A gentle hum, warm and familiar veined into him. He hadn't even realized he took the wand out, twirling it in his right hand. Silver light emitted from the tip, and shuddered with every touch.

Someone pawed at his robes, and Draco quickly grasped the based, startled from his thoughts. Crabbe.

He looked taken aback at the display, and Draco quickly pocketed his wand.

"What is it?" Draco said placidly.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Crabbe said softly, eyes failing to meet his.

"... Tell him what? "

Crabbe glanced behind them, checking for prying ears.

"That you went down that morning at three?"

Draco stared at him. What the hell was he talking about?

" I did no such thing," Draco snipped staring out the window as the reached the main halls.

Various students flooding to and fro made it easy to disguise the tremble in his throat.

"But you did! Goyle saw you leaving the dorms as soon as he had gone to sleep… " Crabbe twisted his hands together. "Thought you had left to use the bathroom, but we didn't even know that you were in bed this morning."

Draco could feel it again. That uncontrollable twist of his gut, that bled ice into his spine.

He was silent for a moment, feigning a loss of interest.

"There are things Zabini doesn't need to know about. If I had said anything, he only would have bared his teeth at me. "

Crabbe in a rare moment, looked thoughtful. Distrusting even, but it didn't last long. They neared ever close to the changing stairwells, and it would take twice his concentration combined to not get caught up on the wrong path.

Draco swallowed hard when he was sure he couldn't be seen, hand clasped over his sternum.

• • • •


End file.
